


Hot tea and cuddles

by Saluzozette



Series: Enjoltaire [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Also Enjolras is tired, Basically what I'll need when I'm done avec my Finals, Because Grantaire is one hundred percent boyfriend material, Finals, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era, Stress, obviously, well you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:59:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saluzozette/pseuds/Saluzozette
Summary: Enjolras feels down after the end of his exam session. Grantaire is there for him.





	

“Can u pick me up?”  
Grantaire blinks at the text, once, twice, and then winces, because Enjolras didn't put a smiley after his question mark, and it can only mean that he failed his exam. Or he thinks he did. Grantaire is up the couch in a heart bit and practically fly down the stairs.  
“omw, u ok?”  
It takes ten seconds longer than it should for Grantaire's boyfriend to answer. This is bad. This is really bad.  
“Not so much.”  
Ok, this is literally the end of the world. Because Grantaire has witnessed every bit of Enjolras long and painful trip to the Devil's lair, from the nights without sleep, to the meals skipped and the restless, feverish prepping, all in favour of this very exam, the last of the semester, and now Enjolras thinks he failed it. He must be such a mess.  
And true enough, when Grantaire's old moped stops in front of the campus' bus stop, Enjolras is here, sitting on the grass, hugging his knees to his chest. He looks like a ghost.  
“Hey babe,” Grantaire kneels in front of his boyfriend.  
Enjolras looks on the verge of tears when their eyes meet.  
“Come on,” Grantaire says, taking his hands into his owns gently. “Let's get you home.”  
The ride to the studio is quiet. There isn't much to say anyway, because Grantaire won't let himself minimize Enjolras's emotional state by saying banalities such as “It's ok, I'm sure you nailed it.” or “Don't worry, it's over now.” because he knows it won't help. That is not what his boyfriend needs right now.  
When they enter the apartment, Grantaire goes straight to the bedroom and brings back the blanket. He points the couch to Enjolras who, just sits without a word, and drops the big fluffy rug on top of him.  
“Get comfy,” He orders sternly. “You're about to be cuddled.”  
The smile on the blond man's lips is frail, shaky and not really here. Grantaire goes back to the kitchen, just long enough to fix his boyfriend's favorite tea. Then he comes back, puts the tea down on the table and snuggles under the blanket, as close as he can from Enjolras. He ends up with a tuft of curly blond hair tucks under his chin and two strong arms wrap around him like he might vanish any given moment.  
It takes some time, but Enjolras eventually breaks down. There his fat big tears rolling down his cheeks, sobs moving his whole body like earthquake waves. Grantaire doesn't say anything, neither does Enjolras. They stay like this for a good half an hour, one of them is crying his eyes out and the other one is cradling him gently.  
Enjolras doesn't need Grantaire to say anything, and he's really grateful he doesn't. He is just so tired, so worn out, so fucking stressed! He just needs a good cry, really, and he's gonna feel better afterwards, he knows it. Grantaire being that warm and soft and comforting against him is just a bonus, though a pretty great one.  
“Do you feel better?” The dark-haired man asks when Enjolras sobs eventually subsides.  
“Yes, thank you...”  
“Don't mention it. Here, drink your tea.”  
Enjolras does as ordered, and if the tea is already cold, he doesn't say anything about it. It really, really doesn't matter.  
“You're the best.” he mutters against Grantaire's chest.  
“Tell me something I don't know, champ.”  
“Nevermind. You're the worst.”  
“Is that a way to treat your awesome boyfriend who gave up on working on his own exam to come and pick you up?”  
“Were you studying?” Enjolras asks, mortified. “Gosh, I'm sorry, I...”  
“Just kidding, babe. And don't mock me, please. You know I don't know the meaning of study.”  
The blond man snorts and cuddles a little closer.  
“Should have figured.” He grumbles. “Is it ok if I fall asleep?”  
“Just let me grab a book real quick.”  
Grantaire is gone and back before Enjolras has the time to register what is happening. They settle on the couch once more, the law student entirely spread out on his artist of a boyfriend, both comfortably tuck under the blanket. It is cozy, and warm, and safe and relaxing against Grantaire. Enjolras is asleep in less than ten minutes. The last thing he registers as he slowly falls inconscious is a hand in his hair and a kiss on his forehead.


End file.
